Is a Virtue
by CycloneT
Summary: He was watching the clock. Even when he wasn’t actually watching the clock he was counting the seconds. [DoggettReyes]


Title: Is a Virtue  
Author: Cyclone  
Rating: K+  
Summary: He was watching the clock. Even when he wasn't actually watching the clock he was counting the seconds.  
Disclaimer: CC, Fox & Co owns. Not me. 

XxX

John had never exactly prided himself on being a patient man but over the years he'd learned how to project a pretty good illusion. That thought comforted him somewhat as he glanced at his partner and smiled, and then went back to watching the clock. A casual observer would have seen a man in a suit sitting at a table with a pretty brunette woman, occasionally exchanging small snippets of conversation while keeping an eye on the time. They wouldn't have seen a man clinging to the last veneer of composure. They wouldn't have noticed the tightening around his eyes as each second seemed like ten, the way his weight shifted from side to side as waited for the minutes to tick over, the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on the table . . .

Shit.

He stilled his hands and fought the urge to move in his seat yet again, and instead cricked his neck. It would probably be too much to suppose that she hadn't noticed, and a small turn of his head confirmed that yes, she had seen, and yes, she was amused.

"That doesn't actually make the time go any faster," she noted, and he swore he could hear the smile in her voice.

He loosened his tie and relaxed into the chair. "I know that," he conceded. "But it beats just sitting here staring at the walls."

"I thought you were watching the clock."

He was watching the clock. Even when he wasn't actually watching the clock he was counting the seconds. He didn't understand how she could be so calm when time had somehow slowed down to a snails pace and no one else had noticed except him.

"Time hasn't really slowed down either," she said, and there was that smile again. It seemed like she could actually read his mind sometimes, and he wondered when it was that he'd become so transparent.

"I know," he said again. "I'm just . . ."

"Impatient to find out the truth," she finished. "I know. Me too. But you know that the truth we find may not be the truth we were hoping for."

"Monica – "

"I just don't think we should hang all our hopes on this, that's all. Maybe what we want to see now isn't meant to be."

"You don't believe that," he said confidently, but was a little shaken when she didn't immediately respond.

"Mon?"

Hey eyes swept the clock face before she looked at him. "I don't know, John. It just seems like every time we think we've made inroads life turns around and pushes us right back to the start. Maybe all this disappointment is a sign from the powers that be that we should just give up."

"Now I know you definitely don't believe that."

She shrugged, and it was then that he realised that this waiting around and not knowing was eating at her just as much, if not more, than it was him.

"Sometimes it's hard not to."

"Sometimes it is," he agreed. "But I'm not going to stop trying until someone tells me there's no hope. And even then . . . if there's one thing this job has taught me it's that there's always hope. So I guess that won't deter me either."

His words settled over them and then when he'd almost began to think that she wasn't going to reply she surprised him by saying something totally out of left field.

"John Doggett, did you just give me a pep talk?"

"Depends," he said with a wry grin. "Did it work?"

She took one last look at the clock clasped his hand. "It worked."

"Good." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and started tapping at the table again with the other. It elicited a smile, just as he'd intended, and the tension that had been slowly building ever since they'd sat down eased a little. Not a lot, because they knew exactly what they were playing for and what it would mean if they lost, but a little, because as much as a loss would affect them, they would keep going and try again.

He continued tapping his fingers and went back to covertly watching the clock while counting seconds.

"John, please. You can stop that now."

He stopped in mid-tap and tried not to let his frustration to show. "What's taking so long?"

"She's very –"

"Busy. Yeah. But we've been sitting here for seven and a half minutes now. You'd think that –"

He stopped short when the woman they'd been waiting for at last entered the room. All thoughts of time vanished as he focused on the file in her hand. He heard Monica hitch her breath and felt her grip tighten, but it was a second or two before he realised what she had. The doctor was smiling. She was holding Monica's test results, and she was smiling.

Nevertheless, he waited until she said the words before he allowed himself to believe. "Congratulations, you're going to be parents."

End.


End file.
